


Make Room, Because I'm Staying

by PilotFlux



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, peter is a genius in more ways than one, tony is sad and thats just not right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilotFlux/pseuds/PilotFlux
Summary: Being a genius has its perks. Problems that are usually strong as concrete magically turn into sheets of paper in your presence. People flock to you, movies are made, books are written. If you’re Tony Stark, you get icecream flavors named after you. The world bends to your whim. You’re basically a god.Alright, maybe that’s an over exaggeration, but you get the point. Geniusdom is a gift, and Tony didn’t always treat it as one- Take his entire life up to Afghanistan, for example. But he appreciates it now. And that’s good and all, because God knows he probably wouldn’t be alive if he didn’t, but that appreciation comes with the realization that an IQ several dozen points higher than Einstein comes with its drawbacks, too- And one of them, he’d found, is that its very, very hard not to overcomplicate things.//Peter doesn't call for a few days. Tony frets. Whump and fluff ensues.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 93





	Make Room, Because I'm Staying

**Author's Note:**

> Work's cancelled, and I've been reading The Waterspout by FriendlyNeighborhoodFangirls, and now I've got Stark Whump on the brain.  
> Once again, not beta'd. I do hope you enjoy.

Being a genius has its perks. Problems that are usually strong as concrete magically turn into sheets of paper in your presence. People flock to you, movies are made, books are written. If you’re Tony Stark, you get icecream flavors named after you. The world bends to your whim. You’re basically a god.

Alright, maybe that’s an over exaggeration, but you get the point. Geniusdom is a gift, and Tony didn’t always treat it as one- Take his entire life up to Afghanistan, for example. But he appreciates it now. And that’s good and all, because God knows he probably wouldn’t be alive if he didn’t, but that appreciation comes with the realization that an IQ several dozen points higher than Einstein comes with its drawbacks, too- And one of them, he’d found, is that its very, _very_ hard not to overcomplicate things.

It had only been two days since Peter had talked to him. _Two days?_ You may think; _That’s nothing! My kids haven’t called me in three months, and you don’t see me spazzing about it!_

Which, really, when Tony thinks about it, is a good point. He’s a highs schooler, and a very involved one at that. Plus, he’s a frickin’ _superhero._ Peter’s got no obligation to text or call every other hour, like he wishes he did. Its just- Well, before the _other thing_ , where Tony nearly got the kid killed, then turned around and offered to turn him into a _damn Avenger_ , they never talked. He just used him to fight all his friends, then dumped the kids’ number into FRIDAY’s contact list and didn’t even register his existence, leaving him alone to fight violent criminals in, admittedly, a brilliantly designed suit with more combat features than the average main battle tank, but still alone. 

Two days isn’t a long time. That’s like, how long it takes his socks to ship from Amazon. Shit, though, if Tony wasn’t missing him. It’s hard not to- He’s just _magnetic._ Like a junkyard electromagnet. Everyone who meets the kid sticks to him, and nothing short of atomic-scale separation can get em’ off. Really, Tony’s a victim.

The more he thinks about it, the more he worries. I mean, not even a _text?_ Radio silence isn’t the kids style, especially not after- Especially since they really started talking again. Was he just working on a project, and was too absorbed to think about it? Maybe his phone got smashed during patrol again, and he was just waiting to grab another.

_Or maybe, he’s trapped under a building,_ again, _which would be your fault,_ again.

Tony spun in his cushy office chair, twirling back over to his desk. “FRIDAY, give the kid a call, would you?”

She obliged, bringing a call up and broadcasting the call tone through the workshop’s speakers. After what felt like an eternity, the line beeped, and Peter’s voice filled the space.

“Hey! This is Peter B. Parker. Sorry I couldn’t catch you- Leave a message and I’ll get back to you!”

Tony frowned. Voicemails happened, sure, but it was a Thursday night- The kid probably wasn’t out with friends. Fear started to leech into his bloodstream again.

“FRDIAY, ping KAREN. Is the kid in the suit?”

Less than a second later, the AI had a map of Queens pulled up on the main screen, a red dot pulsating right where Peter’s apartment was nestled, near the burrow’s heart. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, slumping down in his chair. “Kid’s not in the suit, boss. Geomarker locations suggest it’s slumped. Probably tossed into his closet.”

It’s fine, then. He’s probably working. The phone’s just off, or tucked into the sheets, where it can’t be heard. Perfectly normal for a teen, especially Peter. Nothing’s off. The kid’s safe.

He didn’t realize that the call was still running until the tension in his muscles unwound, the main screen popping back up with a cheesy phone icon. Tony shifted up in his chair, clearing his voice. “Uh, hey, kid. Just calling to, uh- Check up on you. Yeah. Bored out of my mind, over here. Could use some entertainment. Call me back.”

FRIDAY ended the message, leaving the screens blank. “You okay, boss?”

Tony stood, scratching the back of his neck as he returned to his tinkering. “Fine, Fri. Put on some Clash, would you?”

As punk chords started reverberating his spine, he smiled softly, slipping back into the familiar rhythm of work. The kid would call later today, he was sure of it. And if he didn’t, then he’d call tomorrow. It’d be fine.

Ω

By twelve twenty-six PM the next day, the kid still hadn’t called.

Tony kept trying to stay calm and convince himself that it was perfectly normal not to hear from Peter. It’s a Friday afternoon, the kid’s in school, probably didn’t have time to shoot him a text.

But, at the same time, he’d have to have heard his message by now, right? No one just gets a message from supergenius multibillionaire Tony Stark and doesn’t listen to it, not even Peter. He was being totally reasonable with his concern. Completely, totally reasonable. So he pinged the kid’s phone.

Alright, alright, massive violation of privacy, he knows. But he’s just worried, okay? There’s nothing wrong with checking up on the kid, after all, especially in his line of work. Something could’ve gone wrong.

_Or is going wrong. He’s probably suffering,_ again, _because you weren’t fast enough. Maybe if you weren’t such an awful person, the kid would be fine._

Peter’s phone is in the exact same place as his suit. When Tony checks the location data over the past four days, he finds that it hasn’t moved once.

The familiar tingle of fear starts in his toes and steadily works its way into his chest, turning his blood cold as ice. “FRIDAY, turn on KAREN’s suit cams. Current data only, please.”

She does as told, but the footage is pitch black. “Want me to turn on nightvision, boss?”

Tony affirms, and the picture resolves into sticky green static. The mask is piled on top of other clothes, staring directly at the closet’s ceiling. His fingers are numb, now, and he can’t feel his legs. “Fri, the kid’s phone. Front and back cams.”

The same pitch-black footage appears on a side screen, but is illuminated when FRIDAY turns on the flashlight, giving the back camera a view of- Well, absolutely nothing. All Tony can see is what appears to be fabric, leading him to believe the worst.

_Good job. Now he’s probably kidnapped, and suffering, and it’s your fault._ Again.

He thinks about driving, but decides that it’ll take too long. FRIDAY already has a suit prepped by the time he’s in the basement, and the power of full thrust from the ground shocks every bone in his body. Not that he can feel it, because his head is pounding and every part of his body feels like it’s suddenly been dunked in liquid nitrogen, leaving him numb and burning at the same time.

Tony doesn’t need to think as he flies, he has the route into Queens memorized by heart. At full thrust, he lands on the Parker’s apartment complex in less than twenty minutes, which might be an air speed record. Ignoring his thumping head and heart, he bursts out of the suit, sprinting down the stairs until he lands at Peter’s doorstep, not even bothering for the key he knows is hidden in a crack at the top of the doorframe. Instead, he uses a wrist-gauntlet guarded hand to smash the doorknob, bursting into the apartment with a frenzy so mad any onlooker would think he’s finally slipped and lit some crystal.

May, apparently, thinks that’s what’s happened, as the coffee cup she was holding smashes into a thousand tiny pieces, followed shortly by an ear-piercing yell of “WHAT IN THE MOTHER OF GOD IS WRONG WITH YOU, STARK?”

He doesn’t bother to think about the soles of his shoes getting covered in shards of ceramic as he rushes forward, eyes mad. “Where’s Peter? Have you spoken to him? I’ve been trying to find him, but he’s not wearing his suit and his phone is in the closet and-“

She stops him with a hand on the mouth, glaring at him so intensely that Tony finally understands why Peter is always afraid of getting scolded by his aunt. “Peter is at school, Stark. I know because I dropped him off today. And, surprisingly, he was here yesterday, too, when I got back from my night shift.”

Her hand drops as Tony’s jaw goes slack, and the fear flushes from his body, replaced by the white-hot singe of shame and embarrassment. “What?”

May sighs, sitting back on the kitchen’s tiny countertop while she analyzes his getup, comprised of coffee and grease-stained sweatpants and a ratty, burned Smashing Pumpkins shirt. “Peter lost his phone earlier this week. He was going to stop by after school yesterday, but homework’s been picking up recently. He felt guilty about it.”

The billionaire falls backwards into a chair, hands raking unsteadily over his face as he mutters an apology before sucking in a deep breath, hands falling onto the table beside him. “I just- Sorry. I was worried about him, I overreacted. I’ll get out of your hair.”

She takes a seat across from him, placing her hand over his own. “You sound like you need someone to talk to, Stark. You want me to go get Peter?”

He lets out a wet chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t want to take the kid away from his education, Mrs. Parker. It was just a freakout, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”

The woman nods, standing and shooing him out. “Well, then, I’ll tell him to call you after he gets home. Now, begone. I gotta clean up my cappuccino.”

With a guilty glance at the mess he’d caused, Tony stood, groaning at the pops in his hips. With the adrenaline wearing off, he was starting to feel tired. Really tired. Now that he thinks about it, he can’t really remember the last time he’d slept in the past few days- Aside from unrestful naps, there wasn’t much that was keeping his brain running. “I’ll look forward to it, Mrs. Parker. And, uh, sorry about the mess.”

She shrugs, leaning down with a towel in hand and picking up the largest shards first. “Call me May, Stark. And don’t worry about it. Peter’s done much worse,” She shakes her head, smiling fondly. “You wouldn’t _believe_ the amount of plates that kid’s broken.”

With a nod, he spins around, shuffling back toward the stairs, not looking forward to trudging back up the steps in his deprived state.

May watches him leave before dropping the towel and grabbing her car keys. She’s no fool; And, she’s the aunt of a superhero. She knows what someone who needs help looks like.

Ω

Peter knocks on the door to the lab before pressing his hand to the biometric lock, sliding the backpack off his should and tossing it into the corner once the sliding doors open, revealing a snoring Tony spread out over the workshop’s floor, a stool knocked to the side. He must’ve fallen out of it and had been so tired that it didn’t even wake him up.

Striding across the room, he dropped into a crouch, flicking his mentor’s nose, in a futile effort to wake him- The man just kept snoring, mouth slightly agar. Pondering his next move, Peter spotted a pipe cleaner laying near a recently abandoned project, and giggled like a child as he stuck it mercilessly into Tony’s ear.

Instantly, he started, sitting straight up with wide eyes before spotting Peter and giving him a playful whack on the neck. “What the Hell was that for, kid?”

Peter just laughed, sitting joining him on the floor. “You were sleeping. I woke you up.”

Tony grunted, flicking the pipe cleaner out of his ear with a look of annoyance. “Yeah, I noticed. What are you doing here, kid? I thought you were at school.”

He nodded to his backpack in the corner, crossing his legs as he leant back on the linoleum. “I was. May came and picked me up early. She said you blew open the apartment door and were looking for me, so I should come talk to you.”

“Okay, I did not _blow the door open,_ I just broke the doorknob,” At Peter’s expression, he waved a hand, moving the work stool upright and sitting atop it. “And, yes, I was looking for you.”

The kid hopped onto the table behind him, crossing his arms. “What for, Mr. Stark? Did you need something? Cuz, you know, doorknob destruction usually indicates urgency, and I feel like there were better places than my apartment to look for me.”

Tony stared down at his hands, the shame starting to manifest once more. “I just- You weren’t in the suit, and your phone hadn’t moved for _days_ , and I tried to call you because I was worried, kid, which is stupid because it was really just three days, and you shouldn’t feel like you have to call me every day of the damn week, you’re a busy kid, after all, so I- I dunno. I was just worried.”

Peter’s brows knit together as he studied the man, tucking his hands between his thighs when he finally began to speak. “Mr. Stark. You know I lost my phone, right? I absolutely want to call you every day, and I would’ve, but I got busy. I couldn’t make the time to stop over here, so I figured I would just stop by the Tower after school yesterday, but homework got me swamped, so-“

“It’s fine, kid. Your aunt gave me the story. Just a minor panic on my part. No hard feelings.”

He stood, going back to the main console and dropping into his chair, seemingly melting into it’s cushions. Peter bit his lower lip, looking at his feet, before he spoke. “There’s more to it, isn’t there, Mr. Stark?”

Tony spun, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I was just worried, that’s all. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Peter shook his head, giving him a look that was far older than the boy who owned it. “Way back at the ferry, you said you’d feel like my death would be on you. That I’m your responsibility,” He pushed off the desk, moving the stool to sit in front of Tony. “You’ve been different, Mr. Stark. And not just in the usual _oh, I’m Tony frickin’ Stark, I’m obtuse and mysterious_ kind of way. Bad different. Like, depressed. Badly.”

The kid looked back at his feet again, struggling with what to say. “I know that whatever happened in Siberia wasn’t… Good. I know that, afterward, you stopped talking about Mr. Rogers, and you stopped being the same guy you were before. You got engaged to Pepper, but you never really seemed, satisfied with it. You always look guilty, Mr. Stark. And I don’t mean that you, like, betrayed her or something, but that you feel like you’re going to ruin her life, and you blame yourself for it.”

He sighed, picking at a loose callus on his hand. “I guess what I’m saying is; Do you feel guilty about me, Mr. Stark? Like, do you think you’re going to screw my life up, or something?”

Tony almost gaped. He knew the kid was smart, but he didn’t really file emotional intelligence into the same category.

_Like an electromagnet. You just can’t unstick yourself from him._ _That’ll be the death of him, Stark. You’ll be the death of him, because you can’t muster the strength to get away._

He shook his head, trying to focus. He _did_ screw the kid’s life up. It already happened, when he got a building dropped on him, and nearly died in a plane crash. Really, it happened the second he yanked him from his relatively normal life as a teenager and tossed him into a plane to Berlin, because Tony is an expert at fucking other people’s lives up.

“Look, kid, it’s not your fault. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. But I’m- I fuck things up, a lot. And I fucked you up. It’s my fault that you got hurt and had to deal with Toomes all alone. That’s on me. And I just-“ Tony sighed, dropping his head. “You’re better off without me, kid. I’ll ruin you, if you give it time. People you love are going to get hurt because of me.”

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard you say, Tony.”

Peter dropped out of the seat, leaning over to grab his mentor’s biceps, forcing him to look up. “You might be the best thing that’s happened to me. Yeah, the building thing sucked, but I got out of it because of _what you said._ If I’m nothing without the suit, then I shouldn’t have it. The same damn thing applies to you, Mr. Stark. Just because bad things happen doesn’t mean they’re your fault. You might be a genius, but you’re not a god. You can’t control the fibers of the universe like a lineup of fishing poles.”

He laughed at the awkward metaphor before he steeped lower, pulling Tony into a hug. “Life’s not a machine, Mr. Stark. Problems happen that you can’t solve, sometimes. Or, sometimes, things just happen, and they aren’t problems, they just are. I know for a fact that my life would be a lot worse if I didn’t know you.”

Tony was crying, now, and he didn’t even realize it. Tears streamed down his face steadily as his hands wrapped around Peter’s torso, tucking the kid’s head into his own shoulder. He tried to think of words, but none came out- So he stayed like that, trying to stop thinking the darker thoughts, about how he’d destroy the kid, how he didn’t deserve the good things that happened.

“Mine too, kid. Mine too.”

Peter pulled back a little, looking up at Tony’s tear-streaked face. “Hey, Mr. Stark?”

Tony opened his eyes, returning his gaze. “Yeah, Pete?”

“I love you.”

It took him no time at all to say, “I love you, too.”


End file.
